


Only For You

by albions_need_is_greatest



Series: Albion's Greatest Trial [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arthur Pendragon Returns (Merlin), Dark Merlin (Merlin), It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Multi, Past Gwen/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Past Gwen/Lancelot (Merlin), This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:42:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27099061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/albions_need_is_greatest/pseuds/albions_need_is_greatest
Summary: "I'm a sorceror. I have magic. And I use it for you, Arthur. Only for you."~~~For 1500 years, Merlin has tried almost everything he could think of to get King Arthur to return. Every incantation, every spell, every ritual, during every possible phase of the moon. Eclipses, Meteor showers, he had tried them all. He sat by the lake of Avalon during every coronation, every anniversary, and still the waters remained silent. What if, for Arthur to return, Merlin needs to be the very thing he fought against all this time? What if he needs to be the reason Albion is at its time of greatest need?
Relationships: Gwaine/Percival (Merlin), Gwen/Leon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Albion's Greatest Trial [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1977958
Comments: 10
Kudos: 84





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi :)
> 
> This is angsty, I'm just gonna say it. You're in for a ride. 
> 
> I'm gonna leave this relatively short and sweet, check the notes each chapter for any trigger warnings (there's one chapter where there is a character death which will be warned about at the start of the chapter. 
> 
> This is not my first Merlin fanfiction, nor will it be my last, but this is the first one I am posting on A03 (after multiple requests from people on my socials and Wattpad). Please do not repost my work on any other platforms. It is on Wattpad under the pen name TwilightHorsemen but should not appear anywhere else. 
> 
> pls also leave comments and kudos if you enjoy it, there may be ideas for a sequel ;)

“Albion’s greatest need. That was when I was told you would return.”

The old man looked out upon the waters of Avalon. 

Of course, it was no longer known by that name. Instead renamed through blatant mistranslations by oblivious mortals as Llyn Cau, nestled right near Cadair Idris, among the mountainous ranges of a national park. Long forgotten as the place of Avalon. Known only for being the chair of a mythical giant king. It was all nonsense, of course. Merlin knew better than anyone else that this was no throne of a giant king. But it meant the attention of Excalibur-crazed treasure hunters was taken to other various lakes, for which Emrys was eternally grateful.

The calm waters below him, and the serene beauty of a soon to be night sky were fit for royalty, and a stunning backdrop for a throne, he would be the first to admit, but it was not any giant king to whom the throne belonged. Rather the greatest king Camelot – and Albion – had ever known. The Once and Future King. Arthur Pendragon. Destined to one day return, and reclaim his rightful place on the throne. Or so Merlin had been told by an old friend, all those years ago. 

Yet lately, Merlin had been second guessing the prophecy which had kept him going for the past fifteen hundred years. All the death and destruction of the past, and yet the calm waters of Avalon had remained just that. Sheltered from the rest of the world, just as Arthur supposedly was. If he was even there. The countless wars fought, the lives lost, the kingdoms which had fallen and still nothing. Through numerous pandemics and revolutions, and humanity making mistake after mistake after mistake. And still, Arthur was no where to be found. 

“Camelot is long gone, Arthur! As are the knights and the commoners and the queen that reigned long after your death. Gaius, Gwen, Leon, they’re all gone! Camelot’s allies, her enemies, nothing remains of the time in which I called home. Of which we, called home.”

His breath hitched, and he fell to his knees. There was no one left from the time of Camelot’s golden age. He was the last one. And although he had come here to find a sense of hope, to see for himself what he had been staying alive for, and protecting the world for, there was only silence. Merlin could no longer feel the magic which used to surround the lake of Avalon. He could no longer feel Freya, her presence which used to give the waters their very essence seemed to be silent. 

Yet where there should have been tears, none fell. They had stopped over a thousand years ago. Instead now, there was just a solemn sense of nothing. A sense of pure empty, and isolation, because no one could possibly understand what he had been through. For the first couple of centuries, he had tried to remain in a normal state of life. He made sure his ageing looked natural, even if it was just an illusion of him growing old. He met people he loved, people he could call his friends, people who made him feel like he was home.   
But none of them could ever understand. And every one of those relationships ended the same way his and Arthur’s had. Merlin, walking alone in a world he didn’t belong. Watching those he loved get sick, and hurt, and age, and die. Soon he didn’t try to fit in. He didn’t try to find a family with each generation, he just accepted that while he waited for his king, it was best to be alone. That way the heartache was easier to accept. But as with all things, and the changing of the times, the 20th century had rolled around and Merlin found himself becoming a part of society, even the smallest bit. 

By the late 2010s, Merlin had forgotten the lessons which all the years of countless hardships and heartbreak had taught him. He opened a book shop to sell some of the more common books he had collected over the centuries, and even loaned out some of the rarer stories, only to those he knew he could trust. It wasn’t long before he started with his Arthurian Tales evenings. Where twice a week, people from all over Carmarthen would come to hear his tales of dashing blonde princes, and strong knights with flowing red capes. Of dragons, and sorcery, and a tyrant king who came before Arthur. He enchanted them with his words, astounded them with the details he included. But he knew although they were interested in what he had to say, they were worried about him. Although the people loved a good story, that’s all Merlin’s – or Emrys’, as he was known in the town – tales were to them. 

They called him crazy, when he would start talking in the first person, recounting the tales as if he were there. They had called the doctors, therapists, psychologists, but he refused to see them. Continuing with his stories, and his shop, and trying to not let the whispers get to him. 

But it was inevitable that they did. And just as with any words spoken enough times, Merlin began to doubt what he knew. Who he was. What if they were right? What if he was on his knees in front of the lake of Avalon because of a delusion he had conditioned himself to believe over the years? He was only brought back to what he knew was real by the pain, not that he would share his doubts with anyone close to him. He knew there was only one person he could trust. 

“They don’t even believe me, Arthur. They don’t believe that you existed, or that I am actually the real Merlin. They say it’s all a myth. That it’s all just a bedtime story to tell their children. That magic, dragons, the Great Purge and the Old Religion were never real. For centuries, I’ve had to deal with their ignorance. But I always thought that you would rise, and then we could show them together that it was all real. Instead you just stay quiet. All the while their whispers and their opinions get louder. How do I know you’re still even here? How much will it take to get you back?”

So far, nothing had brought Arthur back. And Merlin had tried basically everything. Every possible incantation he could imagine. Druidic rituals, Pagan rituals, all the rituals under the sun. Visiting the lake on eclipses, and solstices, and hundreds of variations of the phases of the moon. He had crawled into the depths of Avalon’s waters, given himself to the cold embrace of the lake in the dead of winter, trapped under the ice before waking up to bright lights and a constant beep by his side. Every new monarch crowned, he found himself back by the lake’s edge on their coronation, as he sat by a fire, sculpting dragons and princes out of the embers, eyes flashing gold as the images reflected in the surface of the waters, desperately hoping for Arthur to rise once again. Yet he never had, and so Arthur, Camelot and the rest of Merlin’s old life had faded into legend. There was almost nothing left to try. Just one more idea, a small ray of hope in an ever expanding room of darkness.

“You’re not coming back of your own accord anytime soon. I know that now. But I can’t live like this. I can’t live in a world where no one believes in what you and what you did for Albion. Where no one even believes in Albion to begin with. I can’t continue being mocked for my name, having to change it every hundred years so as to not make the mortals suspicious. I can’t continue being called crazy, and having to live a life which is not mine. I can’t go on without you, Arthur. I need to get you back.”

The old man stood once more, and faced the dying sun. If anyone had seen, the gold in the man’s eyes could easily be put down to a reflection of the gold which streaked across the sky. Blending perfectly into oranges and reds, through purples and finally into a deep blue, speckled with stars and moons and worlds entirely new. But no one could have explained how in the old man’s place now stood a tall, raven haired man. With high cheekbones and a newborn sense of self confidence, topped off with dress pants and a dinner jacket, as though he had somewhere important to be. 

“If you can hear me, Arthur,” he paused, regaining his voice. Much younger than the man who had just stood speaking. “I’m sorry for what I am about to do. But I’m doing it for you, Arthur. It’s always for you. I just hope you will be able to forgive me.”

Merlin turned around, and walked back down the side of the mountain with not a look backwards to the lake. An orb of pure light coming to life in his palm, illuminating his path, just as the sun dipped below the horizon and took with it the last light of the day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! It's me again :D
> 
> You must be shocked. I mean, multiple chapters uploaded at once? Yep, you got it! For once there ain't gonna be much waiting, at least for the first eight parts. Anywho, I hope you enjoy! Trigger warnings below
> 
> TW: mentions of death in this chapter, tho no actual dying

**_“Authorities across Wales are still searching for eighty-four year old Carmarthen Resident, Emrys Du Lac. Last seen on Friday at around 8pm, Mr. Du Lac locked the doors to his bookstore, not to open them again since. He was reported missing by a local resident, and regular customer, to the store. In a statement to the press, they stated: “Emrys has been here forever. He’s loved throughout the town, and his shop is a marvelous place to be. With his tales of King Arthur and the knights, and of sorcery and magic, he’s the best story-teller Carmarthen has. But I think he believed them to be true. A bit too much. We all know he was getting on in years, and it’s very concerning to not know where he is, especially as there is no saying what his current state of mental health may be.” With no known family, and reportedly no knowledge of technology such as phones and computers, his customers are becoming increasingly concerned. Anyone with any information regarding the disappearance of Mr. Du Lac should contact their local authorities._ **

**_“Now, we go to Dozmary Pool, where lake-goers yesterday were shocked to find the lake entirely frozen, despite being at the end of summer. This comes as another in a series of strange events which have occurred around the UK in the past week. Over to Angel, who’s at the scene.”_ **

Merlin turned off the tv, not in the mood to listen to whatever excuse they created to cover up the truth. The meteor shower in Cornwall had been a “once in a century event”. The thick mist that had shrouded Chalice Well Gardens for three days had been broken down to “three schoolboys in the area, who admitted to using smoke machines to play a prank on their superstitious teacher in order to get out of an exam”. The flash flooding experienced in London had been just a change in the English weather. The solar eclipse over Amesbury Abbey a “once in a million years freak event.”

Dozmary Pool freezing wasn’t a natural event. None of them were. It was magic – his magic – which had allowed them to happen. Would they say it was a freak cool change that occurred overnight? An alert to a quickly approaching autumn? He didn’t need to hear it. Not today. Not when, he looked down at his phone screen to get the time. “Shit. I’m going to be late.”

The bus ride to Glastonbury Tor was a solemn one. It always was this time of the year. He didn’t listen to music this morning, choosing instead to stare out the window at the scenery which passed him by. The thoughts in his mind racing, more intensely than they ever had before.

Today was 1500 years. 1500 years exactly since Arthur had entered into fatal battle against Morgana and Mordred at the Valley of Camlaan. 1500 years since he discovered who Merlin really was. 1500 years since his world had fallen apart, well and truly shattered into millions or pieces he would never be able to put back together. And instead of spending it with Arthur, just like he had all those years prior, this year he was going to the tourist trap. 

Standing in front of the Tor, he couldn’t deny there was a sense of beauty to the place. As well as a sense of something else. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Merlin thought of all of the tourists in front of him. Today, they were all here for the same person. Even if not for the same reason. It was one of the things that no one knew the origins of. Perhaps some lost king and his queen truly were buried at the Tor. Perhaps someone had started a rumour hoping for a claim to fame. Whatever it was, Merlin didn’t know. Half of the legends surrounding Arthur and himself, he knew were just that. Legends spread by wild nights and tales told under the influence, in taverns turned bars, near and far throughout the lands.

But they all thought the legends stories. No one believed.

And only Merlin knew the truth.

Only Merlin was there with Arthur since the day he stepped into Camelot. Fresh faced and ready to see the world. Going to live with Gaius, right in the centre of Camelot, despite having magic which hade him an easy target for execution by the likes of Uther.

Only Merlin was there with Arthur when his sister turned to the dark side. He was the only person privy to Arthur’s midnight meltdowns, where he blamed himself and only himself for how things had turned out. Only Merlin was there to help him get through the night.

Only Merlin was there when Uther died and Arthur became king. Waiting all night for his new king, so he wouldn’t feel alone as he faced the next stage of his life. Standing proud in the crowd as the crown was placed upon Arthur’s head and he turned around, a monarch facing his people.

Only Merlin was there through Arthur and Gwen’s entire relationship. The highs, the lows, the pain Arthur felt when Lancelot came back and Gwen kissed him without thinking. Merlin was the only one there for him. The only one he allowed in when he needed to be held, heart broken as his love seemed to drop him for another. A night before his wedding.

Only Merlin was there with Arthur through the battles and the prep for the war against Morgana and the Saxons. He was the one who helped Arthur succeed in his fight for a just and united land.

Only Merlin was there with Arthur, 1500 years ago, as he held him by the side of the lake of Avalon. His king dying in his arms as he left unsaid the very words which had hung over them since the moment Merlin saved Arthur for the first time.

Only Merlin knew the truth about Arthur and Albion.

At least he used to think he did, but the changing of times and the people around him eventually made him sway in how sure he was of his past. They didn’t believe. He was the only one. And that was lonelier than when people still had hope.

Just ahead of him stood the wondrous attraction of the day. A simple sword, no gold on the hilt, no druidic runes, no pendragon crest on the Pommel. It wasn’t Excalibur. He knew that. But these people didn’t. If they knew the truth, they would know it was a stone, rather than an anvil, from which the sword would be drawn by the rightful heir. By Arthur. But they didn’t know. Because no one listened. This was just a commercial stunt. A way to bring money into the county. That was all.

“Watch where you’re goin’ mate!” said a man as he pushed past Merlin, girlfriend in tow as they posed for the perfect picture. The first of many, Merlin was soon swamped by people pushing into him. Almost crushing him into the ground at some points.

“Watch it, will you?” A man in his thirties and a mop of brown hair.

“Get out of the way!” A woman with a screaming child in her arms.

“Excuse me.” A young adult, holding a scrapbook in the midst of the crowd.

“Let me through.” A bossy child, no more than ten years old.

At the back of the crowd, Merlin’s heart sank. This is what the world he loved had fallen to. Rude children, ruder adults, and all thinking they might be the once and future king. Fighting, Screaming, crying, all for a fake sword molded specially to fit inside the anvil.

Originally, Merlin had set out from his apartment to join the crowd. To try pull Excalibur from the stone, and then use his magic to succeed. To see the look on everyone’s face as he – by their own rules – because known as The Once and Future King. But now the initial adrenaline had worn off, and the buzz of the idea had died down, he found himself on the next bus back home. He didn’t want to become Arthur, no. He wanted Arthur to be back. And that called for more drastic measures. Everything he had tried so far, and no sign of movement from the lake itself.

If he wanted to see Arthur again, he had to become the very thing he had always sworn to destroy.

An enemy of Albion.

It was the only way. The only option. He was doing it to get Arthur back. That was all he wanted. He didn’t want the power. He didn’t crave the people’s acknowledgement. He was only doing it so he could get Arthur back. That’s what he needed to believe.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!
> 
> Just letting y'all know that a heap of the places mentioned throughout this story are actually real places associated with the Arthurian Legend! Places such as Carmarthen (Caerfyrddin), Dozemary Pool, the Abergwili Museum (which houses a piece of the Priory Oak) are all real places, and are very interesting so you should check out the legends behind them :D
> 
> But now, back to the fic...

**_“In an unforeseen turn of events, the last piece of the famous Priory Oak, which was housed at the Abergwili Museum in Carmarthenshire has gone missing. CCTV footage of the area shows a suspect, around 6ft tall, with long white hair and a long white beard. The suspect was shown to be wearing a deep red robe, and carrying a brown satchel, and was shown to be at the scene of the crime only minutes before the Precious artifact was stolen. The detective in charge of the case, Detective B. James, released a statement earlier today.”_ **

**_“It is in the best interests of the town of Carmarthen for the piece of Priory Oak to be returned to the museum immediately. There is a lot of superstition surrounding the Oak, and the survival of the town itself, and since the incident in 1970, it is not something that should be taken lightly. We are doing everything in our power to discover who the suspect shown on the tapes exactly is, however it has not gone unnoticed that the suspect looks remarkably similar to Emrys Du Lac, who has been missing for over two weeks now. Anyone with information to either of these crimes should contact their local authority immediately.”_ **

**_“Well folks, there we have it. Superstition working its way into the 21 st century and into a police investigation with an 84 year old possible suspect is one of the last things I would have expected, yet here we are. After the break we’ll head over to—”_ **

Merlin turned the TV to silent, finally sitting down with his cup of tea and staring at the wondrous piece of wood in front of him. He could feel the power inside of it. Feel it calling to him. It was another thing the people here had got wrong in the legends.

Although the tree did house some of Merlin’s power, he was not currently physically trapped inside it, which many of the people believed to be the case. Nimueh had tried it ages back, when Merlin first started to spiral after Arthurs death all those hundreds of years ago. But she had been unsuccessful, and all it had done was make Merlin extremely claustrophobic. He could hardly shower with the door shut behind him it got so bad on some days. But when he got out, a part of him had been left behind. And he left it there willingly, glad to be free from his wooden prison.

The deep brown of the bark seemed to be filled with life, despite everything it had been through over the years. Poison and fire, and even a car crash. Yet still a piece of the Priory Oak remained.

Merlin reached out a hand, and his breath caught in his throat. Eyes glowing gold as he finally made contact. It was as if Pandora’s box had been opened. There was no going back now, he knew that for sure. Centuries came flooding back to him as the forgotten parts of his power filled every fibre of his being with a newfound sense of being alive. An energy he had not felt in quite the while.

It was the same sense of power he had first experienced when he had first spoken to Kilgarrah as one of his own. As kin. The same sense of power he experienced when Kilgarrah gave him the answers he needed to save Morgana all those years ago.

He could bring Arthur back. He could actually do it. For the first time in a long time, he had hope.

***

He was doing this for Arthur, only Arthur.

He didn’t enjoy it, no.

It was only for Arthur.

He would never enjoy or crave what he was doing.

This was only as a last resort. 

He repeated those five phrases in his head the entire bus ride to Caerleon. Never leaving his mind open for doubt. It was the only way he felt in control. He was doing this for Arthur. And he needed to remember that with every inch of his being.

***

When he arrived, Merlin was shocked at how similar and different a place could be at the same time. On one hand, the outlay of the fortress, and the energy the earth seemed to hold here was exactly as he remembered it when Leon and his family had been the nobles of the court.

But the life of the building was gone. Gone were the high walls, and the many people, nobles, servants, commoners and even occasionally royalty, that would wander through its many halls. Tourists replaced them. Modern nuisances who felt the need to trample over historic sites like they owned the place, only to add to the decay and destruction a site like Caerleon would be facing. But there were enough tourists to do what he needed to.

In his loose fitting jeans and a bright polo shirt, cap pulled low over his eyes, Merlin was unrecognisable. Not to mention no one knew him as his younger self in this generation. He found it easy enough to get a good vantage point of the site, and pulled a sketchbook and some charcoals out of the brown satchel he had by his side. The perfect cover if anyone wanted to know why he was here for more than ten minutes for the tour.

Watching the crowd around the site, he easily spotted his first targets. Eyes glowing gold, they were struck by a strong wind. Hats and glasses flew into the air, and a small child was pushed onto the grass beneath her. Everyone quickly standing up, and looking about. Trying to find some sort of explanation as to what the hell had just happened to them. Next it was a whisper. No more than three words, but three words that no one would want to hear with no one besides them. Eyes glowing gold as his powers sent the message to all those who were around the site. _Leave this place._

Worried glances grew, and the whispers amongst the group of tourists grew louder with each passing minute. He could tell some of them thought something was going on, but none of them yet were worried enough to cause a scene.

One last time for Caerleon, Merlin’s eyes gleamed gold. He mustered all the strength he could into creating a very image which had haunted the walls of Camelot long ago, not that far from where they were today. A cold wind began to sweep across the site, bringing with it odd looks, only for them to grow quiet as the first child broke through the wind.

“Look, mommy, a man on a horse! He’s getting closer!”

“Is that… a sword?!”

“Everyone please calm down!”

“He’s got a sword! We’re all going to die!”

“Forget the sword you dumbass he’s riding towards us! RUN!”

Merlin watched, a small smile creeping its way onto his face as the tourists struggled over each other, all fighting to get their way, and trying to get out of openings that were just too small to fit that many people. All sense of logic had been lost, as the black rider got closer to them with every second. Almost upon them now. They all turn and stare at the midnight black stallion, charging towards where they stood. Petrified with what is about to happen!

“Mommy! Watch out!” The small girl shouts, as screams fill the air.

Eyes flashed gold, and the horse disappeared into thin air, taking the rider with it. Merlin packed up his sketchbook and charcoals, a smirk painted across his face showing really how far he was willing to go to bring back his king. “I’d do anything for you, Arthur. This is just another way I can help you. You’ll see in the end. You’ll forgive me.”

***

In the following days, strange sightings because the norm for the United Kingdoms. People claiming all across the land to have seen knights, and horses and ladies in lakes, and even a dragon or two. Magical beasts, unicorns, pixies and the odd afanc became the most spotted creatures in wales. Only to disappear without any evidence.

People claiming they were pushed by invisible forces. Injured by punches that came from nowhere. Cut by swords which they could not see nor hear, but could feel for sure, and which cause immense pain. Injury levels spiked, as did the number of people administering themselves to hospitals for help, after seeing things they could not explain. All the while, Merlin practiced his craft. Creating illusion after illusion, making them more and more detailed, more and more realistic.

Drawing on memories from long forgotten times to show everyone that everything he said as Emrys had indeed been true. That none of it had been a lie. Not that he was doing it solely for that, though. He was still doing it for Arthur.

Only for Arthur.

But the phrases he used to ground himself were quickly losing meaning.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks! 
> 
> We know we're starting to get somewhere when the Grammarly tone emoji says your work sounds anxious :) But, as they say, this is only the beginning. And we all know the darkest hour is before the dawn
> 
> I can't think of any trigger warnings for this chapter, but you're about to meet some really interesting people :D

**_“In breaking news, authorities fear a tainted water supply in Tintagel, Cornwall, may be responsible for the thousands of reports of King Arthur sightings over the past three days. Over to Eoin, who is at the scene with some witnesses of the events. Eoin?”_ **

**_“Thankyou, Anthony. Now, while the local area of Tintagel has always been rich with history and legends, especially of Arthurian nature, and has its fair share of tourism and supposed sightings, there have never been so many in a short period of time, and none of the nature which every one appears to have seen the uhh, the king of Albion, in over the past few days. I have with me Ethan and Amy, two of the first witnesses of the supposed once and future king, and long-time researchers of the Arthurian legends and local legends in the area. Now, would you please tell me, what was it that you saw at the castle?”_ **

**_“Not what, but who,” Ethan started, before Amy took over._ **

**_“It was him. King Arthur. He was in chainmail, and a red cloak, and it was just like the legends said. But then he started walking towards us, and he… he spoke.”_ **

**_“He spoke?” Eoin queried to Ethan._ **

**_“Yes. Right to our group, and we were at the front.”_ **

**_“But that’s not the issue, you see. It’s what he said.”_ **

**_“And what was that, Amy?”_ **

**_“He said, “You all think I’m coming to save you. That when Albion’s need is greatest, I will sit back on the throne. Well, I’ll let you in on a secret. There’s no Albion left. And this world deserves what is going to happen next.” And then he disappeared, right in front of us.”_ **

**_“It was impossible. Almost like mag—”_ **

Merlin got up from his couch, moving out of the living room and towards his bedroom at the back of the flat. His mind racing at how far he’d come in such a short time. A few key words here, and a bit of magic there, and people were willing to see anything as he wished. It was almost too simple. He wondered if he should have done this long ago. Now it was happening, it didn’t seem like such a bad idea. But he wasn’t doing it because he wanted to.

No, Merlin was doing this for Arthur’s good. For Albion’s good. It was the only way to get him back. The only way to restore Albion to her full potential. He only hoped that Arthur would be able to forgive him for the chaos he was about to wreak.

He wasn’t doing it because he enjoyed it – no. He was doing it because tarnishing Arthurs image, and bringing attention to the Once and Future King might finally stir something from the depths of Avalon. It wasn’t because he was mad, or angry, or wanted revenge for all the years he had spent wandering the world alone.

He was doing it because he had tried every other option there was. Because he had vowed to build Albion by Arthur’s side, and they needed to fulfil their destiny.

He was doing it for Arthur’s own good.

For Albion’s own good.

But as he lay down to sleep there was a part of his mind that he couldn’t put to rest. A part of his mind that enjoyed what he was doing. That, if he wasn’t mistaken, had grown to like the power and control he was gaining over the people. Even if he didn’t want to admit it.

***

Halfway across Wales, a single figure could be seen riding up the narrow pass to a small cavern in the middle of Brecon Beacons, known by the locals as Craig Y Ddinas. Reaching his destination, the figure slid off his horse, with more grace than one should be able to muster in the dead of night.

The bright light of the full moon shone down on his face as he gazed up at the hundreds of millions of stars which dotted the clear night sky. Entire galaxies undiscovered, just as they had been for the past thousands of years. But he didn’t have time to waste – not tonight. The figure led the horse to an old oak tree, standing tall and proud next to the cave, and made sure the horse was secure before walking over to the entrance of the cavern.

A flash of gold in the dead of night and anyone would have sworn the figure now stood in full chainmail and armour, where only seconds ago there had been none. His hand moved to the sword at his waist, glinting in the starshine as he entered the pitch black room.

For a second, his eyes could not make out any details of the space surrounding him. The only tell that he was in the right place was the feel of cold metal, directly pointed at his throat, and a deep voice that spoke to him through the dark.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t run you through where you stand.”

The man stood still, not daring to move a muscle, the blade at his throat a steady reminder of the one perk he had up his sleeve. “Do it.”

“What?”

“Do it. You heard me. Although I’m afraid it won’t do much. Like at all. By now, I’d have done it myself if it was that easy.”

“Your voice,” the figure lowered the blade. “I know you, don’t I.”

“Why yes, Gwaine. You certainly do.”

“Leon!” Gwaine realised, before pulling him into a rib crushing embrace. For a moment the two men stood there, until a torch was lit by someone at the back of the cave, and it was plunged into light.

“Percival! You’re here too!” Leon walked over and his face split into a smile for the first time in over fourteen hundred years. “Did you sense it too? Is that why you’re here?”

“Actually we’ve been here the whole time.” Gwaine smirked, “Had a lot of time to connect since Camelot’s golden days were over, if you know what I mean. Well, in the past few weeks anyway. A lot of the time, I, well, I think we might have been dead.”

“You were,” Leon whispered, barely audible even in the silence. “You all were. Except Merlin, but he… he didn’t want anything to do with Camelot after Arthur was gone. It was too painful, too much of a reminder of what he had and then lost.”

“Wait, are you saying you were alive all this time too?”

“Yes.”

“And you never thought to go check up on him?”

“Gwaine, I—”

“And now we’re in this mess?”

“Gwaine, I tried, back in—”

“You should have tried harder.”

“I’d love to talk for hours, but we’ve got work to do.” Percival said, as Leon’s words sunk in.

“Yes, we do,” Gwaine said, his voice switching away from the jolly self who had reunited with one of his friends after so long. “And I know just where to begin.”

The three of them walked out of the cave, where Leon’s horse had been joined by two others. As they mounted their steeds and set of the long ride to a castle way in the east of Wales, Leon felt himself slipping into the same spiral he had been for the past few hundred years.

After all, what Gwaine said was right. It was true. The guilt he felt for letting Merlin become what he had today was truly immense. He had tried to stay in contact with Merlin for the first few days after Arthur, when he realised Merlin wasn’t returning to Camelot, but when Gwen asked him to stay, he found himself not being able to refuse the queen. And by the time Gwen, and the rest of Camelot Merlin knew was gone, Leon could not find Merlin anywhere. For months he had searched. Every village. Every kingdom. Even crossing over seas in some cases. Yet Merlin did not want to be found. And it seemed that wherever there were rumours of merlin, they were nearly always fake. Logically he knew he had done everything he could have. But there was a part of him that knew he should have never stayed in Camelot to begin with. As soon as he knew he could not die, after he was saved by the cup of life, he should have left.

But he stayed, for whatever ungodly reason, through the battles against Morgana, and the battle of Camlaan, and then even after Arthur’s death. Against all better judgement. Merlin wasn’t the only person on his mind though.

Leon dreaded to find out what Arthur would say when he discovered Leon had married his queen.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi :)
> 
> Yes, the royal family is included, or more accurately, mentioned, in this chapter. And yes, travel may be non-realistic but y'know what, a lot of fantasy stuff has happened so far. So I think I deserve some creative license lmaoooo
> 
> This is where things start to get real angsty, so on a slightly more serious note...
> 
> TW: Mentions of death, depictions of violence

**_“On tonight’s news we head straight to Buckingham Palace, where there have been tens of thousands of reported sightings of a dragon, flying around the very palace itself. That’s right folks, its scaly, winged and with a breath of fire. Here’s our royal correspondent J. Hurt with more.”_ **

**_“Thankyou Anthony. The reports of the dragon here have been numerous and by that I mean tens of thousands of sightings have been officially reported, and many more people have called into work saying they saw “a large winged creature” flying above the palace itself and are unfit to do their jobs. With witnesses including high ranking military personal, government officials, people from every walk of non-noble life and even our news crew, it is safe to say that something very out of the ordinary is occurring here today._ **

**_“There are many who suspect that just like the King Arthur sightings at Tintagel last week, tainted water supplies may be the cause of what appear to be these mass-hallucinations, but when compared to the millions of sightings of strange events which have occurred over the past five weeks, there are a growing number of people who find it too much of a coincidence to be of a natural or scientific cause._ **

**_“An ongoing investigation into the perpetrator behind these attacks, although they have at this stage caused no real damage, is occurring, and we have it on good authority that the person responsible for this will be bought to justice. This comes after—”_ **

“Good authority?” Merlin sighed, sinking into his couch. “I call bullshit on that one. You wouldn’t be able to catch me if you tried. I’m above all of you.”

Merlin smiled, the words of the reporter ringing in his mind: “ ** _No real damage_** … I guess I’m not doing enough then. If I want Arthur back I’ll have to go even further. Then He will have to come back. He’ll have to rise again, the stubborn prat.”

There would be no more fluffing about. No more empty illusions. For five weeks now he had slowly been driving the people of the UK out of their minds. Half of the population believed they had been drugged, and the other half was starting to accept that maybe there is much more to just this world than what they can see. But that wasn’t what Merlin wanted. Wasn’t what Merlin needed. And still, Arthur had not risen. He stayed the same. Silent. Dead. Just like he had been for the past fifteen hundred years since the last battle of Camlaan.

If it took more that just driving people crazy to get Arthur to rise again, then so be it. Since he had started, Merlin had realised would do anything to get his king back.

Even if it meant watching Albion fall.

***

Merlin smiled up at the palace in front of him. Buckingham. The royal house of the 21st century. The home of HM Queen Elizabeth. If there was any place to cause real damage, it would be here.

He stuck out from the rest of the tourists. This time aiming for a business-man-with-a-plan kind of look. In that sense, he fit in with the crowd. A plain black suit, complete with a red tie, the exact right colour to bring out the gold in his eyes if anyone were to notice. Looking down at the ground, he prepared to begin the spell the exact same way as he had all the others, but at the last minute thought he might try something new.

Something special, for a great finale, or a season opener. He wasn’t sure yet.

But he knew it was going to be big.

No one could deny his words now.

It had been a while since he had spoken in the old tongue. The words felt strange in his mouth, as he felt his power course through his veins, reaching out to The Great Dragon just as he had all those years ago. To no surprise, his calls were left unanswered. So he turned his thoughts to Aithusa instead. Aithusa had been very young when Merlin first met her, in fact he had been the one to hatch her. Yet her loyalty had turned to Morgana and he had sent her away from Camelot for good in the last battle at Camlaan. Just another time he had to save that stupid royal prat and get nothing in return. All he got was a lifetime of heartbreak. Over fifteen hundred years of watching everyone he got close to die before his eyes. While Arthur got to die. Wait peacefully until he returned.

But he hadn’t returned yet. And Merlin was going to make that happen. No matter what. He channeled all the rage he was feeling, the frustration into his call to Aithusa. Making it clear as to what he wanted her to do.

***

Leon, Gwaine and Percival were attempting to find Lancelot and Elyan when they got news of dragons heading towards and circling London. They all knew this was their one shot at finding Merlin. Before he went back into hiding and evaded them forever.

They knew what Merlin was capable of, and Leon especially knew how dangerous a spiral could be for an immortal. Especially one with magic.

But none of them could have prepared for the devastation they were met with when they reached the great city. Huge building ablaze from ground to roof. Cars tossed around in the streets, as their owners ran to seek cover. People screaming, fighting, running over each other in an attempt to get away. News crews, trying to get their spiel only to have their gear ruined by the most intense heat they could imagine.

The palace itself was a burning wreck. Leon only hoped the security had managed to get the queen and the royal family down into the bunker beneath the palace in a timely fashion. Every tree, and piece of nature, was burning, or already a dull black. It was horrible.

The smoke in some parts that think that you could taste the air.

The sky so black it blocked out the suns rays.

“Holy Shit.” Gwaine said, taking in the destruction. A lone figure standing in the middle of it all as if nothing around him was even slightly out of the ordinary. With a black suit, perfectly blending into the environment around him. A smile that used to light up the room turned dark as he stared blankly into the sky, looking for Aithusa. It seemed he was no longer doing it just for Arthur. He was too far gone. “That’s Merlin.” Gwaine said shakily.

“Holy shit indeed.” Leon answered, as the group of knights dismounted and made their way to the middle of the intersection, but Merlin turned to them before they got the chance to speak.

“You can’t stop me. None of you can.”

“Merlin, please just see sense. This isn’t going to bring him back.” Leon said, as he reached out to touch Merlin’s arm and try bring him back down to earth.

“Bring him back?” Merlin asked, his smile faltering for a moment. “If this won’t bring him back, then nothing will.”

Gwaine stepped forward, closer to Merlin. “Then, Merls, Maybe he’s not coming back.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about Gwaine.”

“Merl—”

“None of you know what you’re talking about! I’ve waited for over fifteen hundred years! I’ve looked after his bloody kingdom under more rulers than I can count. He doesn’t get to stay dead. I’ve worked too hard. For too long. He has to come back!”

“You’re destroying his kingdom, Merlin. Not protecting it.” Lancelot stepped up beside Merlin and grasped him by the shoulders. “Look around you, Merlin. Is this the course you want to set Albion on? Is this really what you want?”

“I want Arthur back. I want people to know I’m not crazy. I want them to understand.”

“And for that, you were willing to let Albion fall?” Lance continued, softly.

“It’s already gone, isn’t it. There’s no Albion left.” Merlin’s breathing picked up speed, as the realization of what he had done fell upon him The burnt wreck of lost cities, the people huddling in fear, fear of him and the havoc he has caused. “What have I done?”

He sank to his knees, a scream tearing out of his throat and throughout the city as he found himself back at the lake of Avalon, the same spot he stood all those weeks ago. Kneeling at the edge of the lake, shaking and scared, knowing the only option he has left. One last thing left for him to do.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, so, its major angst time. The Trigger warnings include possible spoilers, I have included them below, but if you have any triggers involving death of any kind, self-hatred of any kind, or can easily be triggered by darker or more depressing thoughts, maybe this chapter isn't the best chapter for you. 
> 
> Just as I wrote it, it does play as an important chapter in the fic, but if you skip to the next one the story will still make complete sense. I promise you that. Please do not put your own mental health at risk by reading this chapter. 
> 
> And if you are in crisis or in a really bad space at the moment and don't know where to go to, here is a link with International helpines and Websites which may be able to help. Over 54 countries are included.
> 
> https://docs.google.com/document/d/1YAlqNl6p3_aTg1XClEeo8zCS1BDLLVxrBZTwdXvaAt8/edit?usp=sharing
> 
> Please stay safe, stay hydrated, and read the trigger warnings below if you think there is any slight chance they will affect you. As I said before, you can skip to the next chapter, and everything will still make sense. 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS  
> \--- SPOILERS ---  
> TW: death, suic*de, idk if self-hatred is a trigger warning

Silence filled the valley as the sun rose over the shores of Avalon. No birdsong filled the air, nor were there any cars driving in the distance. There was no fire, no city, no screams that ripped through the very essence of his soul like a knife. It was silent. Calm. Peaceful, and that somehow made it worse.

Merlin stayed on his knees, staring out across the lake, as he gathered his words. He was no longer sure there was anyone he was even speaking to. He was no longer sure there was a Once and Future king after all. Maybe they were all right. Maybe he was just a crazy person who owned a bookshop. Maybe this was all in his head. The only thing that had him holding onto the fact it was real were the screams that filled his find. The heat that he felt on his skin, scorched by the flames. The pain he had felt over the numerous years he was alone.

He couldn’t be alone anymore.

He wasn’t strong enough.

“I’m sorry, Sire. I tried. I tried to save them, to save Albion, I truly did,” The figure paused, tearing up as he stood up besides the water’s edge. “For fifteen hundred years, I’ve waited for your return. I’ve tried my best to keep your kingdom alive, to use my gifts for the greater good so that one day, when you return, the people would be loyal to you once more. All I ever wanted was for you to return. I just had to be patient, look over your kingdom, and when Albion’s need was at its greatest, you would rise again. It was our destiny, written in the stars. Or, I thought it was. But now the world has fallen into chaos. And it’s all my fault.

“I couldn’t wait for you any longer, Arthur. I couldn’t keep walking alone amongst the countless generations of people that have come and gone. Time went by, and I couldn’t keep my promise. I failed. Albion is in chaos, if there even is an Albion here anymore, and it’s all my doing. For hundreds of years, I could sense you. Every time I stood here; I knew I was talking to you. I no longer know that. It’s lonely here. For so long, I had to hide who I was out of fear of execution. I thought that after my secret was out, I would never feel such loneliness again. But now I do. And I can’t go on. I’m not strong enough, my Lord.”

The man stood up, wiping the tears from his cheeks as he began walking into the depths of the lake. He reached below the surface and pulled a sword from Avalon’s depths. The sun’s rays shining off the blade as he held it in front of him.

“Goodbye, My Lord.”

The figure’s eyes flashed gold as he brought the weapon towards himself, and then empty. A faint breath escaped his lips as the bloodied sword fell from his hand, hitting the water with a splash. He fell back, eyes closing as he sunk under the surface, succumbing to the darkness he never thought he would experience. Memories of his life started flooding his mind. The past years fading into nothing as he was brought back to times of happiness. Times of knights in shining armour, and nights spent with Arthur under the stars. Faces flew past his eyes. Lancelot and Gwen and Gaius and Gwaine and then all the knights of the round table, fighting their last stand in the Battle of Camlaan.

His memories turned sour; he saw Mordred fall. Smiling, as Arthur stumbled towards safety, his armour pierced and bloodied. He saw Gwaine in his last moments, blaming himself for the fall of Camelot. He saw Morgana, as she tried to do what she thought was right, against even the goodness of her own heart – Trying to live up to the expectations left by her sister and her kind. He remembered telling Arthur of his magic, and the look of fear in his friend’s eyes. Kilgarrah telling him the prophecy that would fuel him for centuries to come. And Arthur. With his smile, and his eyes, Arthur was someone he thought he would never forget. Yet in his final moments, as he landed on the bottom on the lake, under masses of water and surrounded by emptiness, he lost hope that Arthur was still around to hear him.

As everything faded to black, one thought filled the man’s mind: Maybe Arthur wasn’t the once and future king after all.

***

A mist grew heavy around the lake as life stirred through the princes’ body for the first time in hundreds of years. Underneath the surface, blue eyes shone through the waters. Bringing with them both the pain and the hope from the times of old.

Freya’s magic kept him safe and breathing as he sat up, bewildered, taking in his surroundings. Frantically searching the depths for something he seemed to be currently missing. Arthur stood up, his movements slow against the weight of the water, and listened. Pieces of a broken speech travelling to his ears on the tide.

_Sire… Albion… kingdom alive… loyal to you… rise again… destiny… the stars…_

Arthur moved towards the voice, mesmerised. It seemed to be calling to him, seemed to be leading him to a place he knew he would be safe. He could feel it in his heart. He knew he just had to keep following the voice. He could worry about who it was later. But he knew the voice felt like--

“I see you’re awake, my lord?”

Arthur’s hand moved to his hip instantly, only to touch empty space. He looked to his belt, where he should always have a sword by him, before quickly bringing his gaze back to the woman in front of him. “What have you done with my sword? Who are you? Why am I here?”

“You ask a lot of questions for someone with not much time to spare.”

“What do you mean not much time to spare?” Arthur searched her face for any clues. Yet just as the depths she had risen from, her eyes were a deep blue, and shrouded with mystery.

“Can you not hear him, my lord? Can you not hear how desperate he has grown?”

_All my fault… lonely… can’t go on… not strong enough… failed you…_

“You know who he is, don’t you?”

“I know him the same as you do, my lord.”

“Then why does no name come to my mind?”

“After such a long time, it is to be expected that it will take more than just a voice for you to remember everything that has passed. It will be many months before you truly discover your true destiny, and why you have been called to this time, my lord.”

The lady’s eyes glowed gold as she held out her palm, facing flat towards the surface of the water. In front of Arthurs eyes, a sword came to her from the middle of very heart of Avalon. A sword with a black and gold hilt which he would recognise anywhere. But to Arthurs surprise, the sword did not come to him. Instead, it drifted to the surface of the lake. Almost as if to meet with the person who had been talking to him all this time.

“The voice… He’s been here before, hasn’t he? I remember him speaking to me before. Coming here so many times and reaching out to me through the veil.”

“Perhaps, my lord.”

“Please, just Arthur.” The young prince paused, the memories of the voice from other times coming to the front of his mind like a tsunami. The man had been here before. He had seen the man before. But where? “Can I please know his name? At least give me that.”

“That is something you will soon discover for yourself,” She paused, and smirked. “That is, if you remember enough about him in time, my lord.”

Arthur reached for his sword a second time, before remembering it was no longer by his side. The lady had disappeared as quickly as she had appeared, and no remnants of her seemed to be left behind. Save the glint of a sword in the sunlight above the surface, which was the only lead he had. So, he did what any Pendragon would have done. He ran straight for it.

_I’m sorry, Arthur…_

The voice grew stronger the further Arthur ran. He no longer felt the water holding him back, rather he could swear it was almost pushing him further forward. His chainmail lighter than it had ever been, he pushed himself harder than he ever had. He knew he had to get to the man. His heart was racing for the first time in ages, and his mind told him it was this man he needed to be running for.

_Goodbye, my lord._

Arthur’s heart stopped. He froze, and a searing pain shot through every fibre of his being. He felt his feet start moving again, racing towards the dark shape now falling to the floor of the lake. Yet although he knew he was moving as fast as he could, he could hear each heartbeat. Make out each pounding footstep on the lakebed. He had to go faster. Push harder.

Flashes of the past flooded his mind as the figure descended. Knights in shining armour, a round table, a serving girl, a crown on his head and throne for his seat. He was almost there, just a bit further. His father, his sister, they were all there in his mind. Sleepless nights under the stars, countless knighting ceremonies, the looks of joy on the new knights and the happiness of the townspeople during his reign. One last push and he would be there to help the man, while his mind showed him times of dragons, and sorcerers, and magic, and—

“MERLIN!”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!
> 
> As I said at the start of the last chapter, skipping that and just reading this one will still make sense. 
> 
> To sum it up, if you're like me and would like a summary anyway, Merlin is currently not so alive, but Arthur is very much so alive. That's just taken away about 1650 words, and a whole bunch of angst. Really says a lot about writing when it can be summarised in a single sentence. 
> 
> There is more angst in this one, but the only trigger warning I can think of is mentions of death/someone is dead. 
> 
> Again, hope you enjoy - if enjoy is the correct word- and please let me know what you think through comments and if you like it, kudos :)

**_“Today marks one month since the largest mass-hallucinatory attack the United Kingdom has ever seen. There have been no major sightings since the London Dragon Attack, which caused thousands of videos of the normal London sky to go viral, as people from overseas watched and waited for the dragons to appear. Which, contradictory to the millions of tweets and eye-witness accounts from the area, they did not. Known now to have been orchestrated by the Black Knight Gang, who tampered with the water supplies around England and Wales, police are still searching for the leader of their organisation – known by its members as Morgan le Fey. Anyone with information regarding Miss Le Fey should contact their loca—”_ **

Arthur turned off the TV hurriedly, and looked up at Leon as he walked through the door. “How is—”

“No change, my Lord.” Leon said, Arthur’s face falling at his words as he sank back down into the couch. One month. It had been exactly one month since he had returned – if you could call it that at all. Everything was so much different to how he had left it all those years ago. Long gone were the small villages, living on their own, growing all the produce to get them through the year. Gone were the towering citadels that used to rule over the land, replaced by dotted ruins in the countryside, mere shadows of the splendour they used to be.

For fifteen thousand years he had lay dormant in the safehaven of Avalon, not realizing how much time had passed and just how much had changed. He would have been lost if Leon, Gwaine and the other knights hadn’t found him when they did.

***

Arthur knelt at the edge of the cool waters of Avalon, an unconscious Merlin cradled in his arms. Just as Merlin had held him all those years ago.

His hands stained crimson as he desperately tried to stop any bleeding he could. “Merlin,” he looked at the wound, and the sight cut through his heart. His voice haltered. “Merlin, I know you can hear me, you clumsy oaf. Wake up Merlin. Please, Stay with me. I lo--” but he couldn’t bring himself to say the words, hanging above the two of them again, unspoken and unaddressed.

Arthur’s voice soon turned rough as he screamed, cried, pleaded into the valley. For anyone, anything to bring Merlin back. He had lost so much, he couldn’t lose Merlin too. Not again. He lost time of how long he stayed there, with his memories rushing back to him as more and more colour faded from Merlin’s already pale skin. “I know you’re in there! I know you can hear me you stubborn sidhe! You have to bring him back! He can’t die!”

He turned his attention back to Merlin. The one voice that had kept him going all this time. Even though he hadn’t realised it as it happened, Merlin had come to the lake almost daily for fourteen thousand years. Then only four or five times a week. Then maybe once or twice. He had grown restless without Merlin there. The mystery voice which assured him everything was fine, even when he was in entirely new realms. After all this time, he would never hear Merlin’s voice again. After hundreds of years, Merlin was gone.

“Merlin, stay with me.” He laid his head on Merlin’s chest, the last of his energy leaving his body as his words were met with a sullen silence. “I can’t lose you. Please, Merlin.”

The King moved his hand to the back of merlin’s head, drawing him even closer in an embrace as violent sobs wracked his body. Hundreds of years of loss crashing down on top of him as Merlin lay dead in his arms. “You have to live. For Albion. It’s our destiny, Merlin.”

“Wrong.” Arthur turned his head, hand tightening on the hilt of the sword next to him as he was met with the face of the Sidhe Queen. “It _was_ his destiny.”

She advanced towards him, as he stood up to meet her gaze. The weight of Merlin’s body lifted off him, as he felt lighter than ever. As though not just the weight, but a piece of himself, was gone for good. Arthur held Excalibur firmly in his hand, but left the weapon at his side. Not daring to bring it to his eye-sight where he knew the blade shone red.

“For now the old warlock is dead, and so his destiny is no more.”

“You can’t mean that. He can’t be gone.”

“But he is, young King. You have seen it for yourself.” Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur could still see a very still Merlin lying on the grass next to the lake. His own chainmail bloodied from the warlock’s wounds. The queen watched him with a careful gaze. She saw the way his chest jumped and his eyes averted the man before them. How he would look up into the sky, out into the lake itself, waiting for something to happen. “Yet you still don’t believe. Do you, Arthur?”

“I was told it was my destiny to rise again at Albion’s greatest need. And it was Merlin’s destiny to help me accomplish that he said so himself too many times to count. I’m back, so he can’t die. Not now. Not like this. Not here.”

“You still don’t understand, do you Arthur?”

“Understand, I… what?”

“Why you have risen at this time.”

“Because the, the kingdom. Albion. It’s greatest need.” Arthur stumbled over his words, his mind struggling to catch up. He looked directly into the queens eyes, and could have sworn, for a second, he saw a glimmer of empathy in her eyes.

“Arthur, it is Albion’s greatest need because Emrys is no longer here to protect it. Your destinies past Camlaan were never written to be shared.”

“No,” Arthur exclaimed. Taking a step back and raising Excalibur. “No. You’re wrong.”

“I’m sorry, Arthur Pendragon.”

“No, there,” his eye caught on the blade as he dropped the sword to the ground by his side. “There has to be a way to bring him back. Please. He can’t die like this.”

The Sidhe Queen looked down the side of the mountain, and a small smirk flashed across her face.

“There is something, isn’t there. You wouldn’t smile like that if there wasn’t.”

“How badly do you want him back?”

“I’d do anything.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

“Very well then, Arthur Pendragon. You shall indeed have what you desire. But be warned, everything comes for a price. And the price for a life is very high indeed.” Before he could say anything, the Sidhe Queen dived back into the lake. He rushed to Merlin’s side to protect him, just as he noticed five figures riding up to them.

The six knights looked to Merlin, who was now sitting, a hand on his side, his hands covered in blood. As he slowly regained his thoughts, Merlin rushed over to where the riders stood, pushing right past Arthur in the process.

“Gwaine! Lancelot! I’m so glad to see you!” He turned to the others. “Leon, Percival, Elyan! You’re all here!” He paused for a second, hand ghosting over where there should be a huge gash in his side. “I- I don’t know how I’m here. After everything that I did, I couldn’t, It was, I failed. I had to protect Albion and I failed. I put you all in danger. And I came here, and- and I thought there was only one thing I could do, but then, I—”

Merlin turned back to face the lake, and noticed the figure standing there, holding the very Excalibur which he had retrieved from the lake only hours ago. “I’m sorry, am I meant to know you?”

***

Even one month on, Arthur’s chest tightened at the memory. His mind raced, and his hands began to shake in his lap as everything became too much to handle. The words of the Sidhe queen pierced through the thundering layers of white noise in Arthur’s mind.

_The price for a life was very high indeed._

It was all his fault.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi :)
> 
> And yeah yeah I know, why am I smiling? After what I just did? I did say this would be angsty and I did give plenty of warning about that. But just remember the tags, that's all I will say.
> 
> This is the last part I will be uploading tonight. There are two more chapters, one of which is three quarters of the way written, and I am hoping to get them up within a few days, however going into my end of high school exams will likely try and make that a bit more difficult. Also there is gonna be a sequel to this, just so y'all know. I've already got a plot figured out, and know how the story is gonna go, and ehehehehe you guys are in for a rollercoaster of a ride
> 
> But now off to continue the adventure...

**_“Three months since the disappearance of Carmarthen resident Emrys Du Lac, authorities have started the process of transferring ownership of his local bookstore to his nephew, Merlin. The link between the pair was found in old documentations located within the bookstore itself, uncovering a shared relation between Merlin’s father, Ballinor, and Mr. Du Lac himself. After much negotiation with police, Merlin has made the painful decision to stop the active search for his uncle, with the chief of police fearing Mr. Du Lac was fatally impacted by the attacks led by the Black Knight Gang earlier this year. The investigation into their leader, Morgan le Fey, is still ongoing, with pleads for anyone with information to—”_ **

“How’s that?”

“Well,” Merlin said, turning to the man beside him. “That does explain where I’ve come from. But the people may still be suspicious, especially calling off the search.”

“We can hardly search for someone knowing they’re right in front of us, Mr. Du Lac.”

“I suppose you have a point, Detective,” Merlin said to the older man ahead of him.

“I suppose I do.”

Merlin folded his arms across his chest at the detective’s words, as he let a smile creep onto his face for the first time in weeks. He was finally going back. Back home. He could go back to his old life, even though he had a new name and face. At least to the people who used to know him at his shop, anyway. He could go back to telling his stories.

Stories of knights in shining armour. Of dragons and great citadels, and of sorcery, and daring fights. All products of a time long gone. And now that his friends were back; Elyan and Percival and Lancelot and Leon and Gwaine, his stories would be even more exciting. He could even ask them to visit sometime. The people would love that. He could be happy. For the first time in over fifteen hundred years. But deep down he knew something was missing. As if a piece of him was gone but he didn’t know where it had went. Deep down, there was a part of his mind that knew that no matter what happened, he could never be complete again. A part of him had died inside, as the flames had scorched the last hope of Albion. If only he knew which part of him it was.

***

“You can’t make me do this.”

“You can’t put it off any longer, My Lord.”

“But the others—”

“Will have to come as well,” Leon interjected. “It’s the 21st century, not the 6th. Besides, you can’t go out in public wearing,” Leon paused to gesture at the large piles of chainmail which sat in the corner of the room, and then at the clothes of the men in front of him, all of which were torn, tattered, and almost threadbare due to their cross-country adventures during the previous months. “…that.” Leon finished with a grimace.

“Fine,” Arthur said, having finally caved after weeks of Leon’s pestering. “But this better be quick.”

***

Six and a half hours later, Arthur had finally had enough. His arms had been laden with bags of clothes he still didn’t understand all through the day. Pants that seemed much too tight to what he was used to. Shirts that were much too light after countless centuries in chainmail, under the heavy weight of Avalon. Shoes that were all too confusing, and now, as if to test his patience once and for all, Leon had taken them to get ‘formal attire’.

“Who knows when we may need it sire,” Leon had explained as Arthur had walked out of the changing rooms, now dressed in a black dinner suit, with a gleaming red tie. “You don’t realise how lucky we are to have been put into accommodation as luxurious as ours. And it’s only a matter of time before it’s possible you may be invited to attend a dinner party, or a charity event, now that the whole world knows who you are.”

“He doesn’t know who I am though, does he.”

“My Lor—” Leon was cut short as Arthur began to walk out of the shop. “My Lo– Art– Arthur we still have to pay for that!” Leon’s heart almost stopped when he realised what he had done, Arthur turning back to face him, halfway out the door.

“That’s the first time you’ve called me by my name, no title in front of it.”

“Yes, My lord. Sorry, My Lord.”

“Nonsense,” Arthur said, as the other knights tried to hold their laughter with varying levels of success. “I’ve been telling you for years now. Just Arthur.”

“It feels unnatural, sire.”

“So do these clothes, but I still have to wear them.” Leon’s retort caught in his throat, his mind reeled as he tried to come up with a logical argument which wouldn’t end in Arthur having his heart broken for the second time since his return. It was not only Arthur’s royal title which caused Leon to remain official with addressing the king, not anymore. It was the fact that once, a long time ago, Leon had sat in Arthur’s exact seat, next to Guinevere on the throne.

He couldn’t even imagine what Arthur would think of him if he ever found out. He was Arthur’s oldest friend, for crying out loud. Or at least he was back in Camelot. Now, he wasn’t so sure. But he knew he couldn’t lose the friendship he shared with Arthur, nor any of the knights. Arthur could never know what had happened after he had died.

“I’d rather keep to my old ways, sire. I’m not merlin after all.” Arthur’s eyes darkened at the mention of his manservant. He struggled against his own mind as it suddenly became very difficult to breathe. He needed to get out, go somewhere, do anything. Be anywhere but here, anywhere but with them. Living reminders of a past he lost and a future he could never have.

“I’ll pay you back when I get back to the house. Don’t wait up.” And with that, Arthur was gone. A room of shocked faces left in his wake, and a very confused tailor.

***

A single bell chimed through the shop, as Merlin made his way down the ladder and toward the front of the store. When he had opened the doors that morning, there had been dust on every surface imaginable, dancing in the sunlight as he opened the curtains in the front windows to welcome the light of day into his little slice of heaven. A short incantation later, and he once again was in the midst of a gleaming bookstore.

Thousands of novels, and comics, and ancient tomes of magic and prophecy that lined every wall, every shelf, and every spare space on open desks. The small coffee machine in the reading nook was a customer favourite, and in the winter months would also prepare hot chocolates for the kids, as they listened to his tales of magic and sorcery. His tales of Camelot.

That day was a Friday, and so he had decided to keep his decade old tradition alive. He had placed the shop’s sign in the street which announced that this afternoon would be a retelling of one of his stories, and he had crossed his fingers that people might just show, even if he wasn’t Emrys anymore. To them he was an entirely different person, but he had hoped it wouldn’t make a difference. He hadn’t expected anyone to be this early, however.

His mind raced as he caught a glimpse of blonde, walking down one of the aisles of books. Short hair, always a bit scruffy at the top, the blonde figure looked sharp and smart in a black dinner jacket, which, when they turned to Merlin, really brought out the blue in their eyes.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” Merlin asked the figure hesitantly, almost completely unsure of his words.

“Um, no, no you don’t,” said the person, extending their hand with a small laugh. “I’m Alex. I run the grocery store down the street.”

“I’m Merlin, the lucky owner of this place.” Merlin let out a half laugh as he regained his composure, and shook the other person’s hand. “And I’m awfully sorry about that, I thought you might be someone I know. But no, you’re definitely not him.”

“It would be a good trick if I was, being non-binary and all.” The two shared a laugh and a smile as Merlin felt more at ease than he had been in weeks. “Besides, I’m not called Arthur, so even if I was a man I couldn’t have been him.”

Merlin’s smile disappeared instantly, as he took a step toward the back of the shop. His mind spiralling as screams of battle, and bright smiles, and bloodied knights, and joyful celebrations, and quiet knights with Gaius, and camping out on a patrol, all flashed through his mind.

“Merlin, I was joking. I only said it because of the stories Emrys used to tell. You know, about the round table, and the knights, and th, Merlin?”

But Merlin was no longer listening. Faces flooding his mind as he burst outside the shop, and began a familiar walk to try and clear his mind.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys :)
> 
> Sorry for the bit of a long wait between this part, I had a week full of hectic exams and although technically I also have one tomorrow, eh, this is healthy procrastination. it's not like I would, spend all day,,, reading and then writing merlin fanfiction when I have a math test in the morning, not at all. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you guys like this chapter :) 
> 
> The last part to Only for you should be uploaded by the 29th, and then there will either be a sequel, or a bunch more chapter uploads, but probably a sequel. 
> 
> Have fun reading :)

“All I wanted,” Arthur spoke, as he stared out across the lake of Avalon for the first time since he had returned, “All I wanted was to trade my life for his. That’s still the price, isn’t it? A life for a life? A life taken for a life to be saved?”

The waters remained silent in response, the late morning sun dancing off the ripples in the water, and taunted him with the beauty of the lake and its surrounds. It was too calm, too still, too quiet. Arthur bent down and picked up a rock from the ground besides him, throwing it with all his might into the icy waters in front of him.

“Why do this!? Why not just take my life, as you have so desperately craved to do since I was a young boy back in Camelot? It’s not fair! Nothing about this, this whole game you’re playing with us, is fair!” Arthur continued to throw rocks into the deep blue depths of Avalon, as he attempted to provoke everyone he knew lived beneath the surface, in the eternal fae realm below. “I know you’re in there! Freya, the Sidhe queen, whoever can hear me, I know you’re in there! I demand you see me! Did you hear that? I demand you to see me!”

Tears of anger and frustration pooled in Arthurs eyes as he scooped up a handful of rocks, and without thinking, threw it directly into the water beneath him with a scream.

“They won’t listen to you, you know.” Arthur turned around quickly, only for his eyes to be met with a pair which were strikingly blue. “I tried that for over fifteen hundred years.”

Merlin stepped closer, to stand besides Arthur, and took a breath before he continued. His eyes looked far into the distance now, as if they could see past the barriers of time, back to places of happier memories, and places of painful ones. “Everyday, I’d come out to stand at the edge of this lake. At least, I used to. So then I came every once in a while, and then every year, and then it was just every new coronation. It got too painful, and I stopped coming all the time. I started to lose hope. Lose hope in the one thing that kept me going all these years. Well, it almost kept me going. I guess I lost hope all together, and I did something which I didn’t think possible.”

He turned to Arthur, an unasked question on the tip of his tongue. “But then, even more impossibly, I survived. And I knew you were to thank, but I couldn’t put my finger on who it was that you were.”

“Is that why you came back here today? To figure it out?”

“I came here to escape, if I’m honest. To be alone from the world. I didn’t know you were already here or else….” Merlin trailed off into silence.

“Or else you wouldn’t have come at all,” Arthur finished for Merlin, and turned to leave, before Merlin stopped him, his hand placed on Arthur’s shoulder.

“No, Arthur. Or else I would have got here quicker, you prat.”

“You remember,” Arthur turned to Merlin with a smile, tears streamed down his face as he pulled Merlin into a tight hug. “I thought I’d lost you, Merlin. For good this time. I didn’t know what I was going to do in a world where you weren’t by my side.”

“You don’t have to wonder, Arthur. I’ll always be here for you.”

“But how can you say that? I’ve almost lost you so many times, I—”

“I will find a way Arthur, just as I always do. I’ll always come back, always stand by your side, no matter what happens. I’ll always be here for you, Arthur. Only for you.”

***

_Knock knock knock_

“Leon can you get that?” Gwaine yelled from what sounded like Percival’s room, “It’s probably Arthur, he doesn’t have his keys after he left from our shopping trip early.”

Leon groaned, as he walked towards the front of the house, knowing that if his assumption on Gwaine’s location was right, he would also be currently preoccupied. “Ugh, fine! But you’re getting the door next time someone is here you lazy sod.”

Leon opened the door, expecting to see a disgruntled Arthur, but was instead met by a very soaked Guinevere. She was still wearing the red dress she had worn at her coronation, and at their wedding, all those years ago. The crown not on her head, but rather in her hands, fell to the floor as she stumbled the rest of the way through the door, and into the arms of Leon. He held her tightly, not caring about the mess she was making on the carpet, nor the fact that his clothes were now wet as well. “My king, I’ve found you again.” All thoughts of Arthur banished to the back of his mind as he found himself lost, and stared down into Gwen’s eyes.

“And I you, my queen.” He countered, leaning down to capture her lips in a kiss, just as he had used to do all those hundreds of years ago.

“My god, are you two into role play now?” Gwaine’s voice echoed as he got closer to them. “I mean, you do you Arthur, but at the same time…”

Leon spun around as Gwaine’s words caught in his throat, pulling away from Gwen, but still holding her tight in his arms. Gwaine looked shocked, but his face quickly turned from shocked to angered.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing Leon?” Gwaine said as he reached for his sword, his hand wrapping around the hilt as he held up at the knight in front of him.

“Gwaine, I–”

“She is Arthur’s _wife_ , Leon. You have no right to—”

“Gwaine, please—” Leon said, pulling apart from Gwen and moving in front of her, ready to protect her if that was what it came to.

“First deserting Merlin, and now this? What makes you think that you can just—”

“Sir Gwaine, Enough!” Gwen’s shout brought the other knights into the room, their swords already drawn, ready to face danger, only for their actions to come to a halt when they saw Leon and Gwen. Gwaine stood silent opposite her, confusion written across his features.

Gwaine turned to Elyan, Lancelot and Percival, who stood besides him. “Well? Why aren’t you guys doing anything! This is, this has to be some sort of treason, not to mention just wrong, cheating, on a king no less?”

“It was never cheating, Gwaine,” Gwen said, moving forward to stand by Leon’s side, as she took his hand in hers. “I was faithful to Arthur. Faithful for many months after he died, as I ruled alone. But when Leon and I discovered the connection we shared, I was the happiest I had ever been. Even with Arthur, I had never felt this way. Yes, I loved him, but I always knew his heart belonged to someone else. With Leon, everything just fit together perfectly.”

“You guys are actually believing this?” Gwaine turned to the others, “This is—”

“The truth, Gwaine.” Percival said. Stepping forward, and taking the hilt of Gwaine’s sword, before he placed the weapon out of reach of the other knight. “A lot happened after you died, Gwaine. I should have told you, about everything, about Gwen, and Leon, and Gaius, and that Merlin never came back. I’m sorry I didn’t, I just thought that it would remind you too much of what you had lost. You already thought you had failed, and I was scared that you would take it out on yourself, that it would cause you pain and even more self-torture somehow, and so I—”

“You what, wanted me to believe I actually had for centuries on end? I thought Albion was gone, Percival, completely gone. I had a right to know. It wasn’t your judgement to make, whether something would cause me pain to know. It wasn’t your responsibility to decide if I would beat myself up over what had happened. We were together, for hundreds of years. We weren’t just friends, Percival, we were so much more than that. And even still, it wasn’t your call to make.”

“What do you mean we ‘were’ so much more than friends, Gwaine?”

“Well, ten minutes ago, I would have said we ‘are’ so much more than friends, Percival. Seeing as though you seem to like deciding what I think, maybe you can figure out the rest of the implications.” Gwaine left the apartment without another word. He slammed the door shut behind him, and walked outside into the rain, in the vague direction of Merlin’s apartment, where he knew he could find a couch to crash on for a few days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I did a thing. Merthur seems to be sailing nicely atm, but Perwaine, well, let me know what you think in the comments. And if you are enjoying this fic please subscribe to it so you can get updated when it is updated, and maybe leave kudos bhewbfwefb anyway, please don't hate me too much aaaaaa


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know a lot of you have been waiting for this part. It took a while to get done cause I wanted it to be *just right* so hopefully y'all enjoy what's going on!
> 
> Let's get on with the show :D

When Gwaine reached Merlin’s apartment, he was surprised to find it empty. He thought after working at his shop all day, Merlin would have come home and tried to get some rest before he had to be back at work the next morning. But when no one answered his knock for the second time, Gwaine simply let himself in with the spare key Merlin kept in the potted fern next to his door.

He had only been to Merlin’s apartment a few times, and only when they first returned to Albion, but Merlin had never been at home. Much had changed since he had last been there. Gone were the piles of chainmail and armour, and the weapons on the table that had been a result of the knights and Arthur crashing at his place while they got back up on their feet. Gone was the warmth of cooking, which had filled the apartment to the brim when Leon had been a guest. It was also a lot colder than Gwaine remembered, but he supposed that was because there were no other people around, and that it seemed Merlin had not been home in a while.

Determined to wait for his friend, Gwaine pulled of his shoes and grabbed a few pillows and blankets from the spare room, before parking himself on the lounge and switching on the tv. As the first lines of Tangled started flooding the apartment, Gwaine felt his mind begin to ease.

***

“So how much of it do you actually remember?”

“I remember all of it, but nothing at all.” Arthur looked up at Merlin, the mug of hot chocolate warm between his hands. “All of Camelot, the years we were friends, all the time I was prince, then king, the betrayals, of Morgana, of Agravaine, Mordred at the end, the many times we saved each other’s lives, I remember all of that. The battle, you telling me that you were the sorcerer who protected Camelot all those years, I remember all that vividly. Even after I died, for a while, I saw you. Right up until you sent me off to Avalon. But then, nothing.”

“Until you woke up of course,” Merlin said with a slight chuckle.

“Yes, Merlin. Until I had to come and save your clumsy backside once again.”

“Hey, I’m not _that_ clumsy anymore.”

“Says the man who, not even ten minutes ago, spilt his coffee all over our table?” Merlin followed Arthur’s gaze to the pile of still damp paper in front of them, before he looked back up to see Arthur smirking at him. “Unless, of course, you planned to do that?”

“Well, I _am_ full of many surprises, Arthur.”

“Like your magic.”

“Yes. But you know I didn’t like hiding it from you.”

“Actually, we never got the chance to speak about it properly, did we?” Merlin’s face began to pale, and Arthur seemed to pick on his worry, before hurrying to continue. “You don’t need to look so worried, Merlin. I only have one question to ask.”

Merlin was suddenly finding it hard to breathe. Would Arthur ask about Kilgharrah? Which he surely would remember if he remembered everything before he was sent to Avalon? Would he ask why he had come to Camelot in the first place? Or for him to never use his magic again? Or to ask why he had lied all those years, why he had betrayed their friendship? It took all of his courage to muster the strength to prompt Arthur to continue. “Yes?”

“All those years ago when you told me you had only used your magic whilst in Camelot for me, did you actually mean it?”

“Every word.”

“That didn’t take long for you to answer,” Arthur smiled.

“Well, it’s true, and I mean it even to this day,” Merlin paused, before a soft smile took its place once again on his face. “You’re my destiny Arthur, you always have been. And I wouldn’t do anything to change that. It’s always been for you, My Lord. Only for you.”

“And now,” Arthur looked around the small café, and the people who had suddenly taken a keen interest in Merlin’s conversation, “I think some people are getting far too many ideas about us. Maybe it’s time to go.”

Merlin glanced around the small shop, before making his choice. “Good idea, let’s go back to mine.”

Arthur and Merlin left the coffee shop, and started the walk back to Merlin’s apartment. Luckily for both of them, Merlin had brought his umbrella with him to work that day, and so they were each protected slightly from the rain. Fifteen minutes later, a frown dawned on Merlin’s face as he realised he could hear noise coming from inside his apartment.

He pushed Arthur behind him with one arm, and then lowered his voice, so just Arthur would hear him. “I need you to stay back, I don’t know who might be in there.”

“Merlin, if you think for one second I’m—”

“Arthur, I’m serious. I have magic. You don’t. And you don’t have Excalibur either, or armour. In fact you are literally in a suit right now. So please, just stay behind me and don’t draw attention to yourself.”

Fearing the intruder would hear the jingle of keys in the door, Merlin brought his hand to the door handle and muttered a spell under his breath. Eyes glowing gold, he sensed the lock shift, and with all the silence he could manage, he opened the door and stepped into the apartment, hand raised in front of him ready to defend himself by any means. Behind him, Arthur folded up the umbrella, and held in like he would Excalibur, convinced he could cause just as much damage with it if required.

The pair stopped in confusion, however, when they realised exactly what it was they had heard.

_All those days chasing down a daydream_

_All those years living in a blur_

_All that time never truly seeing_

_Things, the way they were_

“Merlin… is that, someone singing?”

“Yes, Arthur, it’s a movie. It mean’s the intruder is very likely to be in the living room. I’ll go ahead, and you should stay here. If I need any help, I will call for you.”

“You’re not going without me.”

“Arthur—”

“I won’t let you,” Arthur said, surprising Merlin with the amount of authority he could muster in a whisper. “So either I follow you, or you follow me.”

“Fine, just stay behind me then, you stubborn ass.”

The two men trod carefully down the entrance way, and Merlin poked his head around the wall of the living room, only to be surprised when the intruder was, “Gwaine! You’re... in my apartment?” 

Arthur rounded the corner with Merlin just as Gwaine looked up at the pair. Rapunzel and Flynn continuing to sing on the television screen, but now with no audience. “Astute observation, Merls.”

“Gwaine, shouldn’t you be home by now? Wouldn’t Percival be getting worried?” Arthur asked, as his face began to grow worried.

“Nice sword, princess,” Gwaine laughed, as he glanced to the umbrella still firmly held in Arthur’s hand, trying to lighten the topic of conversation. But when neither Arthur nor Merlin reacted, he had to continue speaking and answer Arthur’s questions. “It doesn’t matter what Percival thinks. He and I, we’re done. I’m back to being a single man.”

“Gwaine I’m so sorry,” Merlin said, rushing to sit down on the couch besides Gwaine. He barely noticed Arthur sit down by his side. “What happened?”

“He lied to me. They all did?”

“What did they lie about?”

“Leon. Leon and Gwen.”

“I’m sorry,” Arthur interrupted, “Leon and Gwen?”

Gwaine turned to meet Arthur’s eyes, and he could see the confusion which had started to take them over. He couldn’t imagine the shock Arthur would feel when he found out, but he knew Arthur had a right to know. “Leon and Gwen. Apparently, after you died, after Merlin left Camelot, Leon was going to go with him. But Gwen asked if he could stay. Camelot needed a good first knight. But his duties expanded, and well, he became king of Camelot, and ruled by Gwen’s side.”

Arthur’s blue eyes grew glassy as Gwaine’s words processed in his mind. “I can’t believe this. I loved her. I gave her my heart. And then she, after I was gone I would never expect her to rule alone, although she was definitely strong enough. But how do I know that she only became involved with Leon after my death? What if it happened when I was in court as well?”

“Gwen assured us she was completely faithful to you when you were alive, and that she on—”

“Hang on,” Merlin interjected. “Gwen spoke to you? When?”

“Earlier today,” Gwaine answered. “She turned up on our doorstep. Soaked to the bone and practically leapt into Leon’s arms.”

“That’s impossible.”

“I assure you it’s not, Merlin. I was there.”

“No, Gwaine, you don’t understand. It shouldn’t be possible. The prophecy spoke of Arthur’s return, and of his knights who would return if the threat was too severe, but no one else was supposed to return. Not Gwen, not Gaius, not anybody else.”

***

Far away, the waters of Avalon stirred once more, a blue beam of light flying out of them, and towards a cave, well hidden by a waterfall, and with an entrance overgrown by moss and ferns.

***

“Merlin… what are you saying?”

“I’m saying whatever Arthur did to bring me back, it must have brought back others aswell.”

***

The blue light slowed down, and grew, until in it’s place stood a creature that could easily be thought of as human from a distance. The figure walked the last of the way, deeper into the tunnel system, until they came across a stone slab. Almost coffin like, surrounded by greenery as if it had to be hidden from the rest of the world.

The creature placed its hand on the top of the stone, and began to chant in an unknown tongue.

***

“And that’s a bad thing?” Gwaine and Arthur both said at the same time.

“Yes!” Merlin practically shouted at the two of them, now standing in front of the television as his breath began to quicken and his power began to grow restless. “The Sidhe are powerful creatures of magic, with a deep hatred for mankind. They may have brought me back, and Gwen, but there is no way of knowing who else was affected. The balance has to be restored at all times, and to bring back two of Camelot’s allies, the Sidhe may have just as easily brought back her enemies.”

***

Deep in the cold, life came to be once more.

Her eyes shone gold as power surged through her veins. Dormant for hundreds of years, but brought back to life with a few simple words. The stone slab was blown apart. The forest around the caves falling silent for the first time in over a thousand years.

 _This_ , she thought to herself, _is my chance to make things right._

***

Arthur and Gwaine looked at each other, and then back at Merlin. The two of them speaking in unison once more, fear in their eyes, as they realised who Merlin was referring to.

“Morgana.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So,,, that's a thing I did...
> 
> Firstly, THIS WILL BE CONTINUED! Let me just say that now! I have got many ideas in the works for how this is going to continue to play out, and idk when the next part in the series will be up but if you want to subscribe to the series, or my user, that should keep you up to date with what happens. (I just need to continue and finish a couple of other fics first - feel free to check em out if you liked this one so far)
> 
> Thankyou so much to the people who have left comments and kudos on this work, it truly means so much that you guys enjoy this! And make sure to let me know what you think in the comments below!! 
> 
> Cya soon :)


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